Ariane
by LionsFan
Summary: Harry's sixteenth birthday arrives, and discovers the truth about his parentage and himself. Changes come in all sorts, and he has to deal with his past and try to figure out a future, not to mention deal with relationships and a Dark Lord.
1. Birthdays and Changes

A/N: This is a Severitus piece, with DM/HP, but not slash. (See if you can guess what I mean!) Enjoy, and please review so that I know to keep writing this.

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Prologue

James Potter stumbled down the hall to the door. It was two o'clock when the loud banging at his door had awoken him.

"Last time I ever fall asleep on the sofa," he grumbled, trying to massage that kink that had developed in his neck. He felt around for the switch on the wall and turned on the lights. Now that the apartment was illuminated, he could locate the front door. _If it's Padfoot or Moony, I'll kill them,_ he thought, pulling open the door. To his great surprise, it was neither of his best friends, but a scarlet haired woman. Her hair and cloak hung limply from the rain, but her eyes flashed a brilliant green.

"Lily? What—?"

"James, I need your help," she said. Her voice was trembling, and he noticed for the first time that there were tears running down her face.

"Of course, Lils, come inside," he said, helping her in. He took the cloak and draped it over the nearest chair as they walked to the living room. "What's the matter?" They sat down on the sofa, Lily looking down at her hands.

"I just, didn't know what to do…"

"Lil, what's happened?" James said firmly. "Are you alright? Did that greasy—"

"No, James, he didn't do anything to me," she replied. She looked up at him, emerald eyes seeming to bore into his very soul. She looked desperate and frightened, and it was all he could do to refrain from pulling her into his arms. "James, I…I'm…pregnant."

"Oh, Lily," he said, finally giving in to his protective instincts. "Oh, Lils, I'm so sorry…"

"I don't know what to do, James. You know what he'll do if he finds out. It'll risk everything! His life, mine, Ariane's…"

"I know, Lily, I know." He gave her a reassuring pat on the back before releasing her. "Did you name it Ariane?" She nodded, a faint smile brightening her sorrowed expression. "Lily," James said, taking a deep breath, "I know how to help, but it's going to hurt him. You have to be ready for that."

"I'd rather have him hate me forever," she said, fresh tears pouring from those green pools, "than die for me."

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Chapter One

Harry opened his eyes slowly. It was still dark in his room, but he could make out the blurred shapes of his wardrobe and the desk. He reached out a hand to grab his glasses of the desk, and put them on. The world came back into focus, just in time for Dudley to emit a loud snore in the room next door. It was this early morning time that Harry had come to enjoy the most over the past month at Number Four, before his so called family woke up, when he had his thoughts for company. His sixteenth birthday was only a week away, and that was when Moony would come take him to the Burrow. The Weasleys were his favorite family in the world, and to get to spend the remained of summer with them was going to be heaven.

Of course, he had almost thought about turning down the offer. With Voldemort out in the open now, and searching for him, Harry feared that his friends were already in danger. Guilt clinched at his heart, and tears came to his eyes. He had been crying a lot lately, over Sirius, his parents, the nameless hundreds murdered by Voldemort… And it was his responsibility to rid the world of that snake faced bastard. But how? What was this mysterious power of his that would help him? He was just a teenager – how was he supposed to bring down the most powerful dark lord in over a century?

Damn that prophecy anyhow. It came from Trelawney, for Merlin's sake! No, that was a stupid excuse, Harry thought to himself. He had seen her make true predictions in front of his very eyes. Oh, she was real enough when she wanted to be, the old fraud.

He remembered the letters he had received, from Ron, Hermione and Remus. They had all been worried that he would fall into depression over Sirius's death. But they didn't understand that he had been dealing with guilt over Voldemort's actions for a long time now. No, Harry wasn't depressed, he was angry. He had decided, just a few days ago while he was being pinned down and kicked by Dudley and company that he was going to work harder, train, and make himself strong enough to fight back. He wasn't going to let anymore of his family get hurt, or anyone at the hands of that monster. Once that was done, then he wouldn't let himself grieve for his family, but not before.

If only he were bigger, he thought wistfully, or more powerful magically. Harry was pretty sure that there wasn't anything he could do to improve his powers. He had tried, using his books that he had hidden away under the loose floorboard, to practice upper level spells. But it was as if there was something blocking his magic – he would call on it, but it simply did not respond. To make it worse, he was finding fewer and fewer moment to practice. Since Dudley had begun his boxing, he had only gotten stronger, and more bulky, this time with muscle. Harry was pretty sure that he was, in fact, shorter now than he was at the end of term. His arms and hands had been getting slimmer, though that could be all of the yard work Aunt Petunia had him doing…

Harry sighed and sat up. He had been frustrated with his magic and his height. He needed to get away from here, he reasoned, and get back to the magical world, where he belonged. Then, everything would sort itself out.

Quietly, Harry crept out of his room and down the hall to the bathroom. The Dursleys didn't lock him in at night anymore, out of fright for Moody, but they had made up for it with more chores and less frequent meals. He flicked on the bathroom light, and looked in the mirror. And gasped.

That couldn't be right, he thought, blinking his eyes. His hair was now brushing his shoulders, curling in large waves, when just yesterday it had been his normal, _short_ mop. As he pulled the hair in front of his face to examine it, he noticed that his finger nails were longer as well. What the hell was happening? The Dursleys would freak if they saw him like this – these changes were obviously the result of some sort of magic. He'd be punished for sure… Frantically, Harry dug in the drawer for the nail clippers and his Uncle's mustache scissors.

A few minutes later, he disposed of the hair in the bin, and checked his appearance critically. His hair was a little worse for the wear, but it was short again. There was something about his face that was different though… he looked more carefully at every feature. Were his lips fuller? Yes, that was what was different… _I look feminine_! he thought miserably. Feminine did not go with the new image he wanted to make for himself, powerful Light wizard capable of taking down the forces of darkness…

Uncle Vernon's alarm went off. Harry turned off the light in the bathroom and snuck back into his room as quietly as he could. The Dursleys may not lock him in his room, but they certainly didn't want to think that he was awake and roaming the house while they weren't.

Several days later found Harry lying in his bed, watching the alarm clock. It was his birthday ritual, to wait up for the clock to read midnight. He had left his window open for the owls that were sure to come. Tomorrow morning, Remus was coming to fetch him. Harry couldn't wait. He and Remus had exchanged letters almost daily since the end of term. They had both lost their remaining family, and found comfort in each other. While Moony would never replace his godfather, the werewolf was finding a special place in Harry's heart reserved only for his closest family.

Only four minutes and he would be sixteen. His stomach cramped unpleasantly. It had been doing that all day, strangely. At first, Harry thought it was simply hunger cramps, but he had snuck an apple from the kitchen earlier and they hadn't gone away. He rubbed his stomach, trying to soothe it. He had woken up every day the past week to find his hair and nails longer than they should have been. Yesterday, he could have sworn that his eyes were getting rounder too. He looked a lot more like his mother now, he thought, flipping through the photo album of his parents. This was part of his birthday too, looking through the old pictures of Lily and James Potter. There were a few pictures that Mooney had sent him of himself as a baby, riding around on Padfoot while his mother looked on with a smile. He had had curly hair as a baby…

Another cramp hit him just then, and he nearly doubled over. Something was wrong…

The grandfather clock in the sitting room downstairs chimed midnight.

One…

The cramps got worse, and Harry did double over onto the bed, holding his stomach.

Two…

He felt his skin heating up, suddenly, as if he had been moved over a fire.

Three…

His legs began to hurt. The pain shot up through his shins…

Four…

and hit his hips, where the pain worsened.

Five…

Then through his stomach… _Merlin, it hurts!_ Harry thought, his eyes shut tight, cringing.

Six…

His chest felt as if it was on fire, his skin itched and he felt as if he were being stretched in many different directions at once.

Seven…

The stretching, the burning, the pain…

Eight…

He felt something liquid between his legs, and his last thought before he fell into darkness was, "_Great, now I've wet myself_."

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A/N: Don't forget to review people! 


	2. How is this possible?

**Disclaimer:** Standard disclaimer (for full, see my profile)

A/N: Sorry it took me a while to update this. I wrote chapter one from a plot bunny that popped into my head, and then the muse left me. I'm one chapter ahead of this, and hope to start on four soon. Please read and review - I get my inspiration from your comments. And now, on to the story...

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Chapter Two: "How is This Possible?

Remus Lupin walked down the tidy street of Privet Drive, with a smile on his face. He was on his way to pick up his surrogate godson, and take him back to headquarters, where a large surprise birthday party was waiting for him. He couldn't wait to see Harry's face when he saw the effort they had all put in, the Weasleys especially. Molly had simply outdone herself with that triple chocolate cake. With a werewolf's sensitivity, the aromas coming from the kitchen had been enough to make his mouth water. Of course, the cake would have to wait until three that afternoon, when the party actually took place; he and Harry would be making a stop in London to do some shopping together before returning to Grimmauld Place.

The last Marauder had been somewhat surprised when Harry began writing to him – nearly every day. He hadn't known Harry looked to him as a parent figure, as he had with Sirius. It had been a surprise, and it had been enough to bring Remus out of his stupor. Losing Sirius had been harder than losing Lily and James, because there was no warning, no expectation that he was going to die… Remus had only just started making penance to his friend, who he had left in Azkaban for twelve years, only to turn around and fail him again…

He shook his head a little. Harry had reminded him that he still had one member of his pack left, and he was going protect and care for that child as he should have when the Potters had died. In order to fulfill this promise, he would have to be strong. Sirius wouldn't have wanted him to dwell too much on it. '_Cheer up, Moony_,' he would have said. '_It's not like you won't see me again_.' Sirius had gone on to James and Lily, where he belonged.

He came upon Number Four. Straightening his worn brown coat, he reached forward and knocked. At first, there was no answer, but then the face of a thin, blonde woman peered out. She glared, recognizing Remus instantly – he couldn't remember how many times had the Marauders come to visit Lily over the summers – and turned up her nose ever so slightly.

"You're here for the boy?" Petunia asked tightly. Remus nodded. She opened the door a little more, and said, "Hurry up, then," before disappearing down the hall into the kitchen. Remus sighed, still unable to understand how their Lils could possibly share anything with that woman, and stepped into the house. Immediately, the smell of blood reached his nose – Harry's blood.

Remus flew up the stairs, wand drawn. He followed the coppery scent to the last door on the right. There were a number of locks on the door, but a flick of the wand and they were gone. He threw the door open. He didn't take in the dirty little room, with the sorry cot in the corner, and the lack of anything personal. What Remus saw shocked him into stillness – a thin figure, huddled on the floor, completely still.

Sense returning, he knelt down beside the figure and reached out a tentative hand.

"Harry?" The boy stirred at the sound, and Remus let go of a breath he hadn't known he was holding. The teen didn't wake up, but rolled onto his back, a hand reaching toward the older wizard. That face! If his senses weren't telling him that this small form was Harry, Remus was sure he wouldn't have believed it. Even with the overpowering aroma that screamed _"Harry!_" he found himself lost as to what he was seeing.

A girl, with long dark curls and feathered lashes lay before him, dressed in Harry's overlarge hand-me-downs, her slight frame making the rags almost comically disproportionate. A full pink mouth, and round cheeks, finished a face that was similar to her mother, more so than ever before. The hand that Remus held in his own was small, delicate, but he could feel the calloused pads of a Seeker. The scent was a little sweeter, though, and familiar in a way Remus couldn't quite place… Harry himself always smelled of mint and grass, with the underlying scent of Lily and James. But now, something was missing…

Suddenly, the reason he had come barreling into the room returned to Remus, and he cast a light diagnostic charm. Other than a few bruised ribs, there were no injuries, but there was definitely blood somewhere…it was then that he saw the dark red stain in the jeans. Remus felt his face heat, slightly embarrassed, still unable to believe what was very clearly before him. Harry had become a girl.

"Moony?" a hoarse, but definitely feminine, voice asked. It was a rich sound, so strikingly like Lily Evans'. The werewolf looked into tired emerald eyes, that seemed to almost glow they were so intense. "What happened? Why am I on the floor?"

"I'm not sure, Harry," he replied. "When did this… erm, change happen?"

"What?" Harry asked, eyes suddenly focused. Unsure what to say exactly, Remus conjured a hand mirror and handed it to the teen. Harry took the mirror, eyes wide in shock. He reached a hand up and touched his face, fingers exploring every inch of skin. "Am I…what I think I am?"

"It appears so."

"Could you, um, turn around?" Harry asked with a blush. Remus nodded and did so. He heard the rustling of fabric, and then,

"Dear Merlin! I'm a girl! How is this possible? What happened to me? How can I—?"

"May I turn around now?"

"Oh, right."

Harry had the collar of the shirt by both hands, clutching the fabric protectively against his chest.

"Moony, how did this happen?" he asked, in a quiet, terrified voice.

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Harry," the marauder replied. "Do you remember anyone cursing you on the train, maybe? Did you eat or drink anything strange?"

"No," Harry said, still holding the shirt tightly. "I mean, my hair started changing this week. I woke up and it was long and I cut it off but every morning it came back. And yesterday, yesterday my stomach hurt really bad and I was waiting up for my owls and it hurtssomuchRemusandIpassedout and WHY THE HELL AM I CRYING!" Indeed, as Harry went through the explanation, tears had begun pouring out of those brilliant eyes; he was fully sobbing by the end of it, a desperate, frightened sound that tore at Remus's heart. He pulled the teen into a fierce hug.

"I don't know what's happened, Harry, but we will go to Dumbledore and get this fixed. We'll put you right." Harry nodded into his shoulder, and pulled away, calmer, despite the tears that still leaked from his eyes. "Let's get your things and go then."

"Can I change first," Harry asked shyly, worrying his lip.

"Of course, Harry. Go to the bathroom and get washed up, and I'll get your trunk together."

"Thanks Moony, my trunk's under the stairs." He got some clothes from the beaten up wardrobe and walked out of the room.

Remus took a look around the room. A small pile of packages lay on the cot in the corner. Smiling, he walked over to pick up Harry's birthday cards so that he could open them later. A small cream colored envelope, separate from the rest of the letters, caught his eye. He picked it up and looked at the front.

_To my darling child, from your mother, L.A.E.S.P._

The handwriting was undoubtedly Lily's – Lily Aurora Evans. He didn't understand the last two initials, though. The 'P' was for Potter, but the 'S'? He put the envelope in his pocket to return to Harry later – it was his, after all. Remus could only guess how much a letter from his mother would mean. How it had survived this long…the post offices did offer time-seals on their letters, so it was not impossible for Lily to have sent a letter only deliverable now. But why?

Deciding to think about it later, Remus used his wand to locate all of Harry's things – a surprising number of them flew out from under the bed – and shrink them. By the time he had put all of Harry's belongings into his trunk, the teen in question had come down the stairs in a clean set of rags. Harry's walk had changed slightly, Remus noted, more graceful with a gentle swinging of the hips. The change in the boy was very complete, down to how he carried himself; Remus wondered what sort of curse could change a person's gender. Certainly not one that he had heard of.

"Ready, pup?" Harry nodded. "To headquarters, then."

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A/N: Okay, another chappie done, and another coming soon. Since you were kind enough to keep reading, I will let you all in on a plot secret: this fic has now crossed into the world of creaturefeature! Hope no one minds - I just thought it made my explanations of things easier. (And, Harry's life more difficult! evil grin)

Don't forget to review!


	3. The Change

**Disclaimer:** See profile 

A/N: Sorry it took a while to get this out, so you get two chapters instead of one! Our favorite two Slytherins make an appearance in this chapter, and we get a little closer to finding out the mysteryof Harry's gender conversion. Don't forget to review!

Also, thanks a bunch to everyone who reviewed the first few chaps!

Serena

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Chapter Three: "The Change"

Severus Snape had a reputation as an irritable professor, with a cruel nature and a mean intellect. What many did not know about the dreaded Hogwarts' Potions Master was that he spoiled his godson. Not in overt ways, certainly, not the way the boy's parents did. But Snape provided the best guidance and listening ear for his young Dragon, and tried to counter the influences of Lucius as best he could. That alone was the greatest service he gave the boy, one that went often unrecognized.

The Snape and Malfoy families had, at several times over the last several centuries, intermarried. Severus was Lucius' third cousin seven times removed or something like that. The closeness of the families had much to do with the fact that Severus had been named godfather to the Malfoy heir the moment his existence was even conceived. But much of that also had to do with the fact that the boy had inherited the strongest of the Snape family traits, along with his father's Malfoy looks, and the Black magical strength. Severus knew that the boy would need his guidance before he was even born, and had explained to Narcissa and Lucius the likelihood of what their son would become. And now, with the boy's birthday only a few weeks away, Severus' presence was absolutely required.

Presently, Severus sat at his writing desk, parchment strewn about, quills and inkwells covering the parts of the desk not occupied with notes. He was close to perfecting the Wolfsbane potion, and he was determined to be the first Master to cure the disease permanently. Any interruptions were completely unwelcome, and the knock at the door was enough to make his teeth grind together.

"I distinctly recall being granted peace and quiet in the mornings," he growled, hearing the door open and close. "And unless Merlin himself has returned from the grave and declared war on Great Britain, I fail to understand why I have been interrupted from my research."

"Severus." He turned, seeing a distraught Narcissa standing at the door. Her pale features, while normally pretty, were sickly looking; her robes were the same that she had worn the previous night at dinner, unacceptably wrinkled. "I am sorry, but… you see, Draco…"

"What has happened?" Snape asked, his attention suddenly focused. "Is he alright?"

"The Change, Severus, I think it has happened."

"Impossible," he replied, rising from his chair. "Take me to him." Narcissa knew to obey him without question – in this area, Severus Snape would know more about her son than she.

Draco Malfoy's bedroom was down the hall from his godfather's, but in Malfoy Manor, this meant quite a walk. Still, Severus moved quickly, the speed of a normal wizard's run without ever breaking a stride. At the door to Draco's room, he stopped and sniffed. The distinct scent of pine lingered in the air, with underlying hints of lavender that marked his godson's presence in the room. Inside, the curtains were drawn, and there was no light. A form rested in the center of a large bed. As Snape walked towards the form, his magic crackled just above his skin, sensitive to the charged air. Earthen magic was present in this room, and that could mean only one thing…

"Sev'rus?" mumbled a voice from the bed.

"Yes, Dragon, I am here." He walked to the bed and took in the sight of his godson. The white blonde hair had become golden – the color of flax at harvest – long and straight. Once grey eyes were now a sharp sky blue, looking up at him drowsily. The boy was still a boy, at least; that had been one change that Severus wasn't sure he wanted to watch in his godson, though he had prepared him for the possibility. In fact, unless he was much mistaken, Draco was taller now. Vine like tendrils of blue wrapped around his arms, the marks ending at the shoulders. Snape thought of his own black markings, about his wrists and ankles; he would have to teach Draco the appropriate glamour to keep them hidden.

"You were correct, Narcissa," Snape said, turning back to Draco's mother. "He has undergone the Change."

"But I thought that it wouldn't happen until his birthday."

"Normally, yes."

"Then why has this happened?" Yes, this was the same question that Severus was asking himself. There was only one reason the Change could have come early, but the chances had been nigh impossible of another here in Britain…

"I am unsure," he lied smoothly. "It will bear some research. In the meantime, he will need to begin his training as soon as he is well enough. It would not do for him to start calling up storms ever time he is angry, after all."

"Of course, Severus," Narcissa replied, back to the cool aristocrat now that she was assured of her only child's wellbeing. "If you will excuse me, I must change for the morning." With a nod of his head, she left the room.

"Sev?"

"Yes, Dragon?"

"I… I have a mate, don't I? One of us, I mean? That's why this happened, right?"

"It is a strong possibility, Dragon."

Harry could just see Lupin ahead of him. They had taken their brooms, since Harry couldn't yet apparate, and were currently high above England under the cover of the Disillusionment charm. He was glad for the flight, however; flying had always helped him clear his mind, and if he ever needed to think things over, it was now.

He didn't remember much about the night before, just pain. And when he woke up in the morning, he had felt different. It wasn't until Remus handed him a mirror that he realized why. At first, he had been shocked. Hell, he was still in shock. How had this happened? Even having lived in the magical world for five years, Harry was pretty sure that a wizard didn't just fall asleep and become a girl overnight. It should be impossible. And yet, he definitely had girl… bits; the trip to the bathroom had been as much about checking over his new body as cleaning himself. The blood… well, thank Merlin it wasn't what he thought it was. He must have bled when his _parts_ changed.

"Merlin's balls, Harry, you can think of them by their proper name," he thought to himself. But it was hard to think of himself as a girl, and it was even harder to refer to his body in any way. The Dursleys, prude in everything, certainly hadn't even had "the talk" with him. Everything that he had learned had been through his dorm mates at school, and even then, the parts of a girl's body were some mystical foreign thing, without title. Everything was, "you know," and "them" or "that" – and now Harry had his own "them" and a definite "you know." How was he supposed to look at his friends? Or his professors? He was a complete freak now, he knew it.

"Hang on there, pup," came Lupin's voice. During Harry's brooding, he hadn't noticed the wind pick up violently; he had automatically adjusted his flying, it seems, and was having no trouble on his broom. Moony, on the other hand looked as if he had hit a rough patch in the air. "We can fly in lower now; the house is just below us." Harry followed the instruction, feeling the wind calm as he himself stopped worrying about his condition and fell into the joy of flying at high speed toward the ground. Grimmauld Place finally became visible, closer and closer, until they landed on walk before it.

Remus tapped his wand on Harry's head, and the feeling of cold eggs washed down him. He began walking toward the house but stopped when he realized that Harry wasn't moving.

"Only Molly and Dumbledore are there now," he said, kind amber eyes looking down at Harry. "There is nothing to be embarrassed of. I'm sure Albus will have you right by supper."

Harry nodded, still worrying his lip, and followed the Marauder up the front step.


	4. Sang de Famille

A/N: It all comes out in this chappie - well, most of it anyway.

This chap is dedicated to nick, whose review helped me find a focus for the story.

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Chapter Four: "Sang de Famille"

"Molly? Albus?"

Mrs. Weasley emerged from the kitchen door at the end of the hall. Her fiery hair was longer than it had been the last time Harry had seen her, and was tied into a braid that hung over her shoulder. She still seemed thinner than normal, but she had a genuinely cheerful smile on her face.

"Is that you Remus? We weren't expecting you until – and who is this with you?" She peered around at Harry, who was hiding… erm, standing, behind Lupin.

"Is Albus here, Molly?" he asked patiently, "I'd rather tell you at the same time."

"Of course, Remus," the Weasley matriarch replied, wearing a bemused expression. She turned back into the kitchen, presumably to fetch the Headmaster.

"You can go up to your room, if you'd like, Harry," Remus offered. "I can tell them if you don't want to." Harry smiled appreciatively, but shook his head.

"I want to see if Dumbledore can fix me." Remus nodded in understanding. A moment later, Mrs. Weasley reemerged into the hallway, Albus Dumbledore in tow. He had on cheerful, canary yellow robes with bright red polka-dots, blue eyes twinkling as always. Harry felt himself relax somewhat; Dumbledore would know what to do. He was the greatest wizard in the world, right?

"Ah, Remus, good to see you my boy. And… oh dear me," the wizened wizard said, spying Harry, who was now standing determinedly in clear view. "Harry, child, what has happened to you?"

"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley said in alarm, staring at him with her mouth agape. "But she's—"

"A girl," Harry finished for her. "It happened last night, Professor."

"Perhaps, we ought to take this to the library, where we can sit down," Dumbledore suggested. "Molly, if you could bring the tea service?"

Once they were all settled, Harry related the changes that had been happening to him over the last week, ending with his pain and fainting the night before. Lupin finished the story with his discovery of Harry that morning at the Dursley's. Mrs. Weasley couldn't help but stare at Harry the entire time, as if willing him to return to his normal self; Dumbledore, however, was particularly quiet after the tale was over. When he finally looked up, his eyes were practically sparkling. _How does he do that?_ Harry wondered abstractly. _Must be some sort of glamour charm…_

"There is really only one explanation that I can think of, Harry. It is unheard of for a wizard or witch to change gender for any reason, though there are some dark arts spells that can manage it but only temporarily. Since the wards around your family's home did not sound, we must rule out the use of such things."

"Then what is it, Professor?"

"You have come into a magical inheritance, Harry." Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, while Lupin said, "But, Albus, you know that's not possible—"

"And what is that, exactly?" Harry asked, still unclear.

"It means that you have the blood of a magical creature, Harry, somewhere in your very recent genetic history," Lupin explained, before turning back to Dumbledore with a frown. "But Albus, you know that Lily was muggleborn and James' immediate family never showed signs of—"

"And yet, here we are, Remus," the Headmaster interrupted.

"But why am I a girl, Professor?"

"Certain magical beings can change their sex, Harry. Usually these beings are rare, and this particular change occurs so that at any time, a pair of them will exist. Likely, you have experienced this because there is a male of your species nearby who has already changed, and so you were forced to become the opposite."

"How is that fair!" Harry shrieked in outrage. "Just because I didn't change first means I have to be a girl!" It took Harry a moment to realize that the three adults were eyeing him strangely, almost cautiously. "What?" he demanded.

"Harry, you're…you're…glowing!" Mrs. Weasley said. Looking down at himself, Harry realized that there was in fact a green light shimmering over his body. Surprised, his anger melted away, and he stopped shining.

"What—?"

"We will have to determine what species you are, Harry," Dumbledore said in a serious voice. "You will be capable of different forms of magic depending on what you are, and you will need to control those as soon as possible."

"I'll start the potion," Remus said, leaving the library, and turning left, towards the cellar that was used as a potion lab.

"Potion?"

"To map your genetic history, Harry."

"Oh." With that, Harry sat down, too overwhelmed with the whole situation to do anything more.

"Albus, perhaps you had best floo everyone and ask them to come tomorrow night instead. I'm sure Harry is too tired for a party," Mrs. Weasley said with a significant look to the Headmaster.

"Of course Molly," he replied, and walked merrily out of the room.

"Oh, Harry, how are you really?" she asked in a motherly tone, sitting next to Harry and rubbing circles in his back.

"I don't know, Mrs. Weasley," he said quietly, feeling tears returning. "Am I a girl permanently then?"

"It sounds like it, dear. But being a woman isn't so bad, you know. I've rather enjoyed it." Harry let out a little sob and let Mrs. Weasley wrap her arms around him. "Hush, love, it'll be alright," she murmured into his thick hair, continuing to rub his back.

Some hours later, Molly Weasley left the library, sealing the door and setting a charm that would alert her when Harry woke. In her hand, she held a small lock of hair that Harry had allowed her to take for the potion. _Poor child_, she thought, _he's been through so much already_. Determined to be cheerful, for the sake of the boy… er, _girl_, she thought of as an adopted Weasley, Molly went to find Remus Lupin. Hopefully, they would have the information they needed by midnight.

Remus Lupin was just finishing in the Sang de Famille potion when both Molly and Albus entered the dank cellar.

"The hair?" Molly handed the lock to him. Nodding, the last true Marauder added Harry's hair to the bubbling cauldron. The potion changed from the mute grey that it had been to a swirling mass of colors in moments. Lupin ladled the mixture into a vial, and held it up to the others. After a few moments, the potion calmed, and three distinct colors could be seen. The lowest, a bright gold, indicated human wizard. The next two colors, pure white and black, caused Remus to almost yelp in surprise.

"Incubi, Albus?" he gasped.

"More than half of him," the headmaster nodded, taking the vial himself.

"It must have been Lily," Molly said. "The Potters haven't ever had creature blood in them. It's no wonder she was so powerful."

"Yes, but this raises another question entirely," Dumbledore said, frowning. "Lily was undoubtedly part Succubus, as the white is lesser than the black, and part human. But the black indicates incubus blood as more than half of Harry's inheritance."

"So, James isn't Harry's father?" Remus asked, catching on to what his mentor was implying. "But Lily would never—"

"Had there been an Incubus near her at any time after her majority, Remus, she would not have been able to help it. The draw of magical beings to each other in quite powerful, as I am sure you can appreciate." Remus flushed hotly.

"Then who are you suggesting is Harry's father?"

"That, I do not know," Dumbledore replied with a sigh. "But young Harry will be in for a rough time, for sure. There is a least one Incubus in Britain, and there is little doubt that he, or they for that matter, will come in search. We will have to train Harry to mask her scent and limit her affect on others, and as soon as possible. Being the savior of our world is dangerous enough; a Succubus in the middle of Hogwarts will be completely unprotected."

The three wizards quietly cursed the fates for failing to leave the boy they cared about alone.

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A/N: Well, there it is. Harry's a Succubus! dun dun dunnnnnnnnnn!

So, what is your opinion: should Harry try to hide his girlness for a while (glamour charms do wonders) or should he have to return to Hogwarts as a girl?

Review please!


	5. Dreams and Questions

A/N: Sorry it's been a while. But, I'm out for winter break now, and have a wonderful four weeks of freedom. Hopefully I'll get some more writing done on both this and Keys. Well, hope you like this little chap, and I'll work my best to get another soon! As always, I don't own the characters, (but love them enough to dedicate my time off to it) and please R&R!

Serena

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Chapter Five: "Dreams and Questions"

_Strong, able hands were working their way up her legs, ghosting over the skin, sending pleasant ripples of pleasure through her. She sighed appreciatively. She could almost hear the smirk._

_"Like that, love?" asked a voice from somewhere above her navel. Suddenly, the hands had moved, they were inside of her, and she cried out in the sheer ecstasy of it, body arching off the bed. "Merlin, I love that sound," the voice said again, this time just above her left breast. A warm mouth enveloped the nipple, sucking gently. At this, a low, purring moan freed itself from her throat. But then, the mouth was gone._

_"What—?" The weight on the bed shifted, and suddenly there he was, her mate, body flush against hers, claiming her lips roughly. She was only too eager when his hand pushed at her leg; even more so when she could wrap her legs around his waist, and impale her body onto his. And, despite her own ragged breathing and frantic pulse, she could hear the words as they were whispered against her skin,_

_"**Mine**."_

Harry sat up so quickly that he fell from the sofa onto the hard floor. _That's gonna bruise,_ he thought, gingerly lifting himself back up. It took him a moment, sitting on the sofa with the last of the fire dying in the library grate, to remember everything that had happened. _Had it only be a day?_ _Only a day to change my whole world…_

Then, the dream came back to him in vivid memory.

"Oh God," he groaned, dropping his face into his hands. He had had a dream; an erotic dream, in which he had been a girl… this couldn't be happening. _I'm a _fucking_ bloke_, he thought furiously. _Not a girl_. _They'll find a way to put me back, I know it. They have too…_

"Harry?" He looked up, startled to find Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore and Moony entering the library. "Are you alright dear?"

"As much as I can be," he replied, blushing slightly.

"Excellent, dear girl, excellent!" Dumbledore said cheerfully; from the looks on the faces of the other adults in the room, Harry got the sneaking suspicion that the headmaster was just putting on a good front. Disconcerted that he'd been referred to as "dear girl," Harry simply waited for what they had to tell him.

"We've been able to discover what sort of being you've become, Harry. Through the use of a potion, it became quite clear that you are, in fact, a Succubus." Harry stared at his professor blankly.

"A what?"

"They're the female version of the Incubus, Harry," Remus said in as a scholarly a tone as he could. "They are similar to veela in their need to feed from the sexual energy of their partners, but have powers of enthrallment nearly ten times stronger than any veela."

"Which means, what exactly?"

"What Remus is trying to tell you, Harry," Mrs. Weasley replied, sitting down beside him, "is that an Incubus' powers and magic are based completely around sex." Harry blushed furiously, trying to look anywhere but at the three adults in the room. He had always considered Ron's mother to be his own surrogate mother, and to hear the word sex fall from her mouth was beyond embarrassing.

"Does that mean I can't do regular magic?" he mumbled to the carpet.

"Of course not, dear." Mrs. Weasley gave his hand a little squeeze as though to confirm what she said. "You're still a wizard…or, well, a witch really, but—"

"But that doesn't explain why I _changed_. Why aren't I a proper bloke anymore?" Harry angrily swiped at his eyes where tears were beginning to form again. Mrs. Weasley and Remus shared a confused look, but Dumbledore answered the question anyway.

"Incubi and Succubi are very rare creatures, Harry. In order to ensure the survival of the species, they bodies are able to change gender depending on the number of each sex in the population. You became a Succubus because there is already an Incubus living somewhere here in Great Britain, and so when you came into your inheritance, the Daemon magic created a balance."

"THAT'S UN-BLOODY-FUCKING-FAIR!" The room shook violently, causing all three adults to draw their wands. As it had earlier, Harry's body had taken on a green shimmer, which was gradually becoming brighter.

"Harry, calm down!" Remus yelled, but he was beyond caring at that point – the old mahogany desk in the corner set fire just as Harry cried out in pained growl, falling to the floor. The other occupants in the room looked on in shock as a pair of silky opalescent wings burst from Harry's back, spraying blood and flesh across the sofa behind him. And then, everything was still again. Harry lay sprawled on the floor, panting, and apparently unconscious.

"Albus?" Molly asked, watching the small form, eyes glazed with concern.

"Her body is still adjusting to her power, Molly. It will take some time before she will be able to process that much raw magic without seriously draining herself. Thank Merlin we have some time before the Allure manifests itself."

"And the memory loss?"

"I imagine that is a similar affect." The Headmaster walked to Harry's figure and knelt down beside it. He reached out a hand to touch the feathers of Harry's new wings, only to pull back his hand sharply. "Fascinating!" he exclaimed, leaning closer and examining the feathers over his half moon glasses. "Remus, the feathers turn sharp at the touch. Have you read anything about this?"

Remus frowned. "In some species of veela, the feathers become sharp as a defense mechanism. I suppose, because he, er… she, is unconscious the magic considers hi-her vulnerable. But in veela this only happens when the female is pregnant. There aren't many writings on Succubi – I think they were generally killed at puberty to prevent the continuation of the species."

"Will they be out like that all the time?" Molly cast Harry a concerned look. "There'll be no hiding it…"

"We'll don't know until we try, Molly," Remus replied. "Let's move Harry upstairs to hi…_her_ bedroom, and when she comes to we'll set ourselves to the library. If there are any books on Succubi, I've no doubt Cepheus Black bought it."

* * *

_"I just don't love you anymore Severus," she insisted, those fiery curls swaying in an unnatural wind. He knew she was lying, knew in every last part of his being. But then, why? Why would she betray him so?_

_"You were gone too long, and James has been good to me."_

_"Oh, I can see that!" he snarled, gesturing furiously at her rounding belly. It was just noticeable. "Tell me, did you even wait for me to go on a mission, or did you spread you legs for him while you yet warmed my bed?" _

_That hurt her, he knew. She reeled back, as if struck, eyes flashing with fury._

_"And you wonder why I left?" she said, voice low and dangerous. "Did you possibly think that anyone would want to be with you forever? You are nothing more than a beast! A creature with no soul—"_

_He summoned his wings forward and threw himself into the air. And all the while, he knew those tears were for something he didn't understand. She was lying, but what truth could be worse than the words they had thrown at each other? _

Severus Snape opened his eyes, and let the memory fade away. He would never know the answer. Lily had gone into hiding a month later, and four months after a child had been born, who looked exactly like a Potter should. The last time he spoke to her, his mate, his love, was as her body was being lowered into the ground. He put his face into his hands and wept quietly.


	6. Breakfast at Grimmauld Place

**A/N: This chapter is dedicated to **anna**, whose review inspired me to go back, take a look at this story, and pick it up again.**

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Chapter Six: "Breakfast at Grimmauld Place"

Harry had remained asleep for four days. When she awoke, it was with a soft purr and a flex of her expansive wings. She felt rested, and for a moment kept her eyes closed and took in the room around her.

She noticed that, even without sight, she had a sense of everything that was in the room; she felt the cool air coming from under the door opposite the bed, felt as it shifted and wrapped itself around the objects in the room. She could hear the sounds of voices… they were two floors below her, in the kitchen. Moony and Molly… they were just out of range for her to make out the words in the conversation. She was aware of the water running through the pipes in the wall, and the quiet scraping of the pixies that fought to reclaim the library curtains. She felt every shift and compression of the muscles in her body, hyperaware of every movement, of every touch…She breathed in deeply and took in the smell of her family, the underlying scents of must and decay of the old house, and of Mrs. Weasley's famous sweet rolls.

Silently, gracefully, she got out of bed and padded to the bathroom. After relieving her bladder – it was still the _strangest_ thing to have to _sit_ on the toilet – Harry took a moment to stand before the mirror and inspect this new body.

"I'm stuck like this," he said to the mirror. "No changing it. I _will not_ be uncomfortable with my own bloody body."

"That's the spirit, dear," said the mirror sleepily.

Determined, Harry pulled off the large nightshirt and really looked at himself. He had on the pair of boxers that he had put on when he left the Dursley's, but that was it. He took a hand and tentatively touched one of the breasts now attached to his front. It was… soft, but heavy at the same time; he was not small by any means – they were definitely bigger than Hermione's – but his chest was not overly large either.

On the underside of each breast, Harry could see what looked like leopard spots, except that they were emerald green, the same color as his eyes; the spots cupped each breast, narrowly near his sternum, and then widening as they moved outward and finally a thick band that ran under his arms to his back. Turning around, Harry could see that the spots met in the center of his back, between the wings, and then trailed downwards below the line of his boxers.

Facing front ways again, Harry noted that his skin seemed paler than before – more like ivory than the washed-out appearance of someone who hadn't seen the sun in a while – and with fewer imperfections. He knew from earlier inspection that he was completely hairless except for his eyebrows and the thick mop atop his head.

There were other markings on his body as well – around each ankle, black swirling lines; on the underside of each wrist, the runic symbols for water in brilliant sky blue; and on the inside of each thigh, a narrow line of more spots, delicate like freckles, in a vibrant red. He wasn't sure what they meant, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that the green represented him, and the other colors belonged to separate people. But who? And why? Harry sighed at the mounting number of unanswered questions.

"Harry, dear? Are you awake?" came Mrs. Weasley's voice from the hall. Quickly replacing his nightshirt, Harry opened the bathroom door.

"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley." Mrs. Weasley turned around with a smile on her face; she finished cleaning her hands on her apron and held them out.

"Nice to see you about, love," she said, embracing Harry in a quick, motherly hug. "You're looking much better – how do you feel?"

"It's still, strange," Harry mumbled, pulling at a spare thread on his cuff. "But, I am just going to have to get used to it, I guess." Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly.

"That's a good attitude, Harry. And you know, I'm here for you, if you need another woman to ask questions to. I have always wanted another girl to take care of." Harry blushed furiously, but felt grateful that he had someone to talk to. "Now then, let's get down to the kitchen before the others."

"Others?"

"Well, Remus and Albus, of course. And I believe Nymphadora is coming today as well."

"Tonks?" Harry asked confused as they descended the staircase. "Not that I don't want to see her," he added quickly.

"She's something of an expert in Magical Creatures," Mrs. Weasley explained. "Had to learn all about them during Auror training, as she's the only one at the ministry who can make herself look like one. She's gone with Remus a number of times to visit the werewolf packs for the Order – when its not time for the full moon, having golden eyes can convince most of them that she's not an outsider." That made a lot of sense, Harry thought.

"So she might be able to tell me more about… me?"

"That's the hope, dear. And that she might help us find the other Incubi in Britain. Now, help me set the table."

They had arrived at the kitchen. The wonderful smells of fresh bread and hot tea filled the room; steam was issuing from a pot on the stove, and a mixing bowl was pouring beaten eggs into a hot pan. It wasn't long after Harry set the plates out, and Mrs. Weasley had put breakfast on the table, that Remus made his way into the kitchen. He had walked in with a stack of books, which he promptly set at the table before helping himself to tea.

"Any luck, Remus?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"I've pulled everything I could find on Incubi from the library shelves," he replied. Remus took a moment to savor his tea before continuing. "Now we'll just have to work our way through them."

"There's more there than I thought there would be, at least," Mrs. Weasley said, setting eggs before him.

"Incubi and Succubi were something of an obsession for one of the Blacks, it seems," Remus replied musingly. "Of course, they were once highly prized as pets. Any pureblood would have been honored to have one."

"Pets?!" Harry exclaimed, dropping his mug and spilling tea all over the table. The werewolf had the grace to look apologetic, at least.

"It's just a fact, Harry. I'm trying to present the information as a pureblood would see it. Werewolves were once forced to fight battles for wizards. They were kept in prisons, starved, until they were half-mad, and then at the full moon sent out to be murders."

"Remus, that's horrible!"

"But true, Harry, horribly true."

"Thank Merlin those times are long past," Mrs. Weasley said firmly, pouring herself some tea."

"We're not entirely out the fire yet, Molly," Remus said. "It will be a long while yet before werewolf rights are fully addressed."

"What about Incubi?"

Remus gave Harry a hard, sad look, and sighed.

"The truth, cub, is that there have been no changes to the laws concerning your kind. They are protected as magical creatures, but nothing protects them from being sold into slavery."

"That's awful!"

"Yes, Harry, which is why we are going to have to work very hard to find the others that are here in England. Only they will really be able to teach you how to control and hide your powers. That is the only way that we will be able to keep you safe."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"Do you think there are many more… like me?" he asked quietly.

"There has to be at least one, Harry. Your mother lived all those years with Incubus blood in her veins and none of us ever knew. There could be hundreds more, and we just don't know about them."

For the second time in his entire life, Harry felt a spark of hope that perhaps he was finally going where he belonged. He wasn't the only Incubus in England, or the world for that matter. He wondered if the other(s) would like him…

Brilliant green flames ignited in the fireplace, and a whooshing sound preceded the appearance of the Headmaster. He was dressed in acid green today, with frogs that danced around the hem of his robe. A second whoosh, and then Nymphadora Tonks fell out of the floo, landing on her rear. Her hair went red and spiky for a moment, while she stood and shook the soot out of her robes.

"Stupid, ruddy floo! Worst thing every invented by wizards…" She finally seemed satisfied with her robes, and looked up, beaming, hair now a soft lavender shade.

"Morning, all!"

She took a seat at the table next to Remus. He flushed, barely, and Harry shot him a curious look.

"You make a pretty girl, mate," she said to Harry, taking the pot of tea from MRs. Weasley and pouring some for herself. "And I like the wings."

"Erm… Thanks, I guess."

"How are you today, my dear?" Dumbledore asked, taking the seat at the head of the table. Mrs. Weasley got up and put plates together for the new arrivals.

"I'm fine, Headmaster," Harry replied. "I don't feel as…"

"Shocked?" Dumbledore supplied, smiling in thanks as put breakfast before him.

"Yes."

"Excellent, excellent. You are handling this situation remarkably well, my child." Harry flushed, pleased with himself. "And today, we shall set out to discover as much as we can about Incubi. So, let's all tuck in to this marvelous breakfast and then, to the library."

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**A/N: **I will probably not be updating this as often as LutD because this story is not as well developed. If you want more updates and faster, please review!


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